The Dimwit
by RoseScor90
Summary: Louis knew his love was unrequited, but did that stop him? Was it unrequited at all anyway? R&R!


Disclaimer: Not JK…

A/n: Written for the next Gen competition. The character was Louis Weasley and the song that inspired this fic was _Dead Ringer For Love – MeatLoaf_

Hope you enjoy!

Louis Weasley wasn't known for subtlety; in fact, he almost always happened to be at the helm of any kind of trouble. A typical Gryffindor, he was never short of detentions for causing mayhem. As far as the school population was concerned, Louis Weasley was a classic Weasley, a prankster, an open book. But of course, when had anybody's closet of secrets ever been empty?

Nicole Greene, a fifth year Ravenclaw, was nothing notable or famous. She was the exact opposite of what he was, and she was one among the few that actually never paid him any mind. It was very rare that he ever found a person like that excepting his sister Dominique and her _friend_ who always seemed to be out of it. She intrigued him, but she also frightened him, for, when he had inquired about her (he couldn't date her if she was the daughter of a Death Eater!), all he had been able to get out of his sources had been that she apparently wasn't his type. What was his _type_? Louis had asked, but people just shook their heads, as if they were disappointed he didn't know.

Tied down by his lack of information, all Louis could do was watch her from afar, wishing he was there beside her; carrying her books for her, opening doors for her, making her laugh, watching her in class, eating meals with her, studying with her, just plainly being there beside her. But of course he couldn't, for he was, underneath all the layers of bravado, a coward. He who was thought of as the guy who could do any dare, was afraid of her rejection.

He had seen, from time to time, her eyes drift past him as if she had spotted a rather sore sight; she wasn't impressed by him. Why then was he hanging around, waiting for her? What was he waiting for anyway? For her to suddenly realize her undying love for him and come running to declare it?

But he hid all his confusion, desperation, _helplessness_ behind the mask of confidence. When you posed like you were unshakable, people followed. And so his days at school passed, with covert glances during classes, subtle looks during meals, fleeting confrontations in corridors when he tried his best to not let his thoughts show.

It was one of those days, when he seemed incapable of thinking anything other than her, a day when her thoughts consumed his mind. It was all because she had laughed at one of her friends' jokes at breakfast. He couldn't seem to get the sight out of his mind, the sound of her laughter ringed in his ears until it drowned everything out. And the way she had looked at him, almost as if she _knew_ he would be looking at her, almost as if she was expecting him to. Only for a tenth of a second, though. Then her face was back to the indifferent mask that clouded her features.

The first time he met her in person happened to be in a crowded corridor. Someone had knocked her books down and she was scrambling to save her stationery from getting stamped on. Without thinking about the repercussions (you see, he was being distracted by her very _presence_), he bent down to pick up a color changing quill and gave it to her. She smiled that darn secretive smile at him, as if she knew what was running through his mind. Before he could even speak, she was gone; mingling among the crowd until she was just another head of blonde. Next time, he promised himself, the next time he'd talk and not stare at her like a dumbstruck fool, which was actually true but he cared not to admit.

XXXXXXXX

Louis, who was known for never backing down from a challenge, was hiding. Hiding away from the girl he fancied so that he wouldn't have to speak with her. How ironic that the world should think he was practicing stealth. But of course, on a rather bad day, he met her again. They're alone this time and Louis has no option but to speak to her. But he doesn't know what to _say_! Hello? Hi? I fancy you? He knew none of those would go over well, so he grabbed the only other option.

"Hey you!" She looked up from her book which she had been reading while walking. She seemed surprised, shocked almost, that he was even speaking to her. Seeing that they were alone in the corridor and that he couldn't have been referring to anyone but her, an impish grin graced her features as she neared him.

"Yes?" Louis flushed. This was precisely why he had been hiding in broom cupboards for the past few years (yes, he did actually do that and yes, he had been doing this for almost three years. Jeer at him all you want, you weren't the one faced with a life threatening situation, were you?)

"You wanted to ask me something?" She looked up at him with those all knowing hazel eyes, and that was his undoing. For bad or worse, he'd just ask her.

"Will you go with me to Hogsmeade this Saturday?" There, the quaffle was now in her court and Louis felt palpable relief, as if the quaffle had been a lead ball tied around his neck. For all the anticipation (or anxiety, if you saw things that way), she was absolutely unruffled, her lips quirking up in that uneven smile that had been the first thing he had noticed about her. Trust him to spot the imperfection before anything else.

"No more hiding in broom closets?" She was laughing at him. _Laughing!_ And she knew? But how was that possible? He had been so careful! Noticing his befuddled expression, she chuckled merrily.

"You think I wouldn't notice the incessant staring, after four whole years? Really, Louis!" His heart was hammering. Did that mean she thought him a disgusting stalker? That she was glad he had run away from her and would like for him to go back to ignoring her?

"Is that a yes?"

"I wouldn't say that. It's a maybe that may or may not turn into an alright" She smirked like him, her eyes mocking his bafflement. He couldn't blame her.

Who wasted four years staring at a girl when they could as easily have been dating her?

Him, apparently.

A/n: Do review!


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